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  Apr 2021 shamamama
Pinkmoon
The truth lies in the dirt
Feathers sifting brown flour
Sunlight prisms dancing
And I let you

New green, her ritual comforts
While I lie contorted beneath you
The scent of wet soil
And I let you

The ****** bud reclaims her power
Rhythmic earth turn, turn
Spring, thy mirror of veracity
And I let you

Blinded by a heart grown
Veiled in misty mornings
The great lie, just out of sight
And I let you

Out of a hard rain now
No death by my hand
Nature continues her march
And I let you
Go
Relationship betrayal and the comfort of nature's consistency
  Apr 2021 shamamama
Zoe Mei
in time
the lens
turns large and flexes
small
and the colors of hands
the shapes of days
stains
the wallowing stream
the hanging chord
for god is change is time
is infinite is ends
is frozen is stagnation
is a self
a sculpture in ice
glittering melting
a tale the same
in every telling
till
gone.
“god is change” is from the novel the parable of the sower by octavia e. butler, i highly recommend
the triple point is the exact temperature and pressure of a substance where it can be all three states, solid, liquid, and gas, at once
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